When Worlds Collide
by Age of Edward Contest
Summary: When two very different persons meet, it is as if laws of gravity are increased tenfold. When east meets west, worlds are bound to collide.


**When Worlds Collide**

 _The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended._

Isabella Marie of the house of Swan, daughter and only heir to Charles, king of England, embarked on the journey that would seal her fate, a fate that was decided long before. Being the only heir to the king, it was vital for her and her father's house to find a suitable match, to marry a powerful prince and join both nations. It put the king at ease, knowing an alliance of the sort would protect not only his daughter but his throne too.

When the sun cast its cold rays on a winter morning, the princess was set to take her leave from her home, her castle, her country, heading to Austria to meet Prince Ferdinand, her future husband. He was heir to the Roman throne, and would soon become king of England too by marriage. A match made in heaven, some would say, but it was not. It only satisfied the current thrones and satiated their hunger for expanding territories.

The princess and her maid were the only women to make the journey, escorted by a horde of guards for protection along the roads. They bid their farewells and shed a great many tears, then the princess and her armed escort disappeared down the bumpy road on the first leg of the journey that would end the eighteen years of her freedom. After a few days travel, they finally arrived at the coastline.

Princess Isabella looked back to the English territory from the ship that would take her to France. Looking back upon the lands where she was born and raised, she couldn't help but let the tears run freely down her face, but she promised herself, next time she returned, she would hold so much power that she would be able to protect her lands for many years to come.

The sail through the waters was more unnerving than anything else, and Isabella sighed her relief when touching her feet to the mainlands again. A long journey awaited them still, and they could not spare more time than necessary. They boarded the carriage and settled in for a long, overland journey to meet her betrothed.

"What is happening?" Isabella asked as the carriage jolted to a stop.

All she could hear was horses approaching, and swords being unsheathed. She took a small dagger from under her frock and got ready to defend herself. Few noblewomen could wield a weapon, but her father had, absent a son, indulged Isabella, teaching her basic skills and tricks with a dagger.

She hid the weapon behind her body, hoping to surprise her assailants and gain an advantage. Unfortunately, she was outmatched, and did little more than wound one of the attackers before she was disarmed and subdued. She looked about in horror as they dragged her from her carriage. Her guards lay about, dead or wounded, several already bound and chained.

She was both petrified and enraged, fearful of what would become of her kinsmen and her, but outraged about being attacked and unable to defend themselves.

"Let go of me! I am England's princess. You have no right to lay a hand on me," she cried, but they were already taking a hold of her.

The attackers were dressed in the strangest manner, with baggy trousers, long sleeved overcoats tied at the waist and odd headgear with metal gilt crowns and long flaps at the rear. The swords they carried were shorter than those of her homeland and had a marked curve. Some of the men wielded small daggers that also curved forward to a wicked point.

Princess Isabella could not identify their language. She knew it was neither Latin nor French, as she was fluent in both. Apart from the huge mustaches that adorned their faces, they didn't have any distinct marks to identify them.

"I'm asking you to let my maid and I go. Before long, search parties will be sent and..." but she stopped her rant mid-sentence for there was no one who was listening. The princess stayed composed while her maid Rose cried her eyes out.

With no knowledge of where they were being taken, they relied on the hope that Prince Ferdinand's party would raise the alarm when they did not reach the rendezvous point on the appointed day. The Roman party that was to meet them halfway was going to be their saving grace. Isabella spent the days and nights praying to the god above to set them free. After the initial attack, nobody was mistreated or killed, but the journey to the unknown was painful enough.

The journey came to an horses slowed their gallop and were lead through a massive gate. It emphasized the defensiveness of the fortress that lay ahead. Calligraphy written in golden ink adorned the top of the structure. Isabella couldn't understand what was written, but it was beautifully done. Colossal walls encompassed the whole palace, and that frightened the princess further. Once inside, she knew it would be hard to discover a way out.

A colourful courtyard with green hues and fountains lay on the other side of the door, such a contrast to the wilderness on the other side. It looked peaceful, soothing even. Everyone dismounted and the hostages were ushered along by silent servants dressed in long,finely tailored robes, their actions rapid maneuvers yet precise, they moved between the incomers with fluidity and dexterity.

Never, in all of her life, had Isabella seen anything remotely similar to this. A second gate stood up in front of them. This one was flanked by two large pointed towers, and there were inscriptions on this one also. The size of the edifice stunned her.

A man dressed in a fine-looking long tunic, surrounded by guards, approached the newcomers. The leader of the assailants stepped forward to tell him all the highlights of their mission.

"Hanım, özür dilerim…" the man could not finish his sentence, he was cut off by the princess.

"I do not understand a word of what you're saying. I am Princess Isabella of England. How dare you barbarians kidnap me? You have no right to keep me hostage. This will lead to war," she cried, her anger getting the best of her.

The man, who seemed to understand, finally answered, "I am sorry, miss. My men don't understand your language." In a very thick accent, he continued, "I am Jek pasha, and I am chief of army to the Ottoman Dynasty, and for now, you are our hostage. Welcome to Topkapi Sarayi, residence of the sultan of all sultans in all lands, commander of the world Ecved Mustafa Yavuz.

To say that Isabella was surprised was an understatement. She was shocked to the bones, for she was convinced that she would meet her death behind those walls. She had heard that the ones who controlled this side of the world were savages, although the castle before her hardly looked like the work of beasts.

"I demand to be released with my men and maid at this moment," she said rather harshly.

"I'm aware that you are irked by the turn of events, but only Ecved Sultan can decide what will become of you," he replied with an intrepid tone. "Meanwhile, don't worry, Princess Isabella. You and your maid will be treated with the utmost respect, and no harm will come to either of you while under our protection," he said with finality.

Isabella and her maid were led through the palace to what the princess later learned was a hamam- a steam-filled room where Ottomans take baths- by the head of the servants, an older woman whose stern face seemed to scare all the servants about the castle and sent them to their chores without so much as a word.

After being bathed, massaged and clothed, the princess was then escorted to a room where she would apparently be staying. Not knowing what to do, she looked around trying to figure the best actions to take from there. She didn't know how help was going to save them all. She felt she was too far away. It seemed as if they had been dragged to the end of the world, and no one could follow them there. At least Rose was with her. For that she was grateful. They would support each other until this ordeal ended.

Both women sat silent, seemingly deep in thought, until the princess was startled by a loud voice. The doors burst open, and she stood right away, while her maid bowed her head. A tall man with fair skin, the greenest eyes she had ever seen and reddish brown locks stood before her wearing a kaftan made from embroidered silk. His stature was powerful and intimidating.

"Princess Isabella, I am sincerely sorry for any discomfort you experienced during your travels. I am Ecved Mustafa Sultan," he said, keeping his composure, while admiring the woman standing in front of him. He was enraptured with her; with her warm brown eyes, silky brown hair, and petite figure. He had never seen such a beauty.

"Discomfort? I was kidnapped and held against my will!" she exclaimed, standing taller to show him she was not scared of him. Or rather she tried not to be scared; her shortened breath and her fast-beating heart showed she was, in fact, affrighted.

"Princess, with all due respect, you weren't treated in any harsh manner, and therefore you have nothing to complain about. As for your stay, I will discuss the matter with my council, and we will decide how long you are to be kept here." He was a little taken aback by the harshness of her words. None of his subjects dared to challenge him. His mother was the only person he allowed to speak to him in that manner, yet he tolerated it. After merely a minute in her company, Princess Isabella had arrested his attention more than any other woman he had ever encountered.

"I hope it won't be long. I have matters to attend to and none of them involve me being here," the princess said with a steady voice.

The sultan only smiled at her defensiveness, turned around and returned to his quarters, leaving a stunned looking princess behind. Both his attitude and, dare she admit, his handsomeness, had distracted her from her feelings of fear and anger.

Later that night, Ecved headed to his mother's apartment to have supper. After greetings were exchanged, the Sultan noted the princess's absence. He had expected her to share their meal that night.

"Where is Princess Isabella? Wasn't she offered an escort to bring her tonight?" Ecved inquired.

"Of course she was, but she refused, saying she preferred to eat with her maid," Esma sultan answered with a distasteful tone.

"Excuse me, validem." And then he left the Sultana's apartments. He was disgruntled, to say the least, and was going to voice how offended he was by the Princess's actions.

"I heard you refused to join us tonight, may I know why?" the sultan asked the bewildered looking Princess.

She was stunned. He couldn't really be asking that question, could he?

"I have no interest in sharing a meal with a sultan and his mother while I'm prisoner to said sultan." Isabella was more than happy to show her disagreement with the fuming Ottoman leader.

"I told you, princess, you are no prisoner in my castle but rather a guest," he answered in an exasperated tone. Their conversation was getting more heated by the moment.

"A guest? A guest who wasn't even invited here to begin with? A guest who stayed in this room the whole day not knowing what was to become of either her maid or herself? Excuse me, but those definitions don't exactly stand for the word guest, but maybe you don't possess books to teach you what a guest is or how they should be treated," she said insultingly.

The sultan laughed humourlessly at her. "Princess, I read more books than you ever did before you even learnt your calculations. Don't stand there belittling me while you don't even know who I am." He stormed from the room, the rush of air that ensued hitting Isabella's face as he slammed the door shut.

Isabella was far more acquainted with his retreating form than she had ever cared to be. This time she huffed in annoyance.

"He is turning me mad. Who does he think himself, taking us all by force, then coming in here and storming off that way?" Isabella said, incredulous.

"Well, Princess, perhaps he is used to have what he wants and hates the resistance you're showing," Rose, her maid analysed.

"If he expects me to bend to his will, he's in for a surprise," she said triumphantly.

On the morning of her second day of captivity, she was invited to a party taking place in the harem that evening. But the princess was more than hesitant to attend. She hadn't chosen to be there, after all. Why would she go to a party and be a willing participant in her takers' feast? And in a harem nonetheless, a room filled with women kept against their will to satisfy his highness's needs. That was degrading, inhuman and all together a crime.

She wasn't naive to the ways of monarchs in her own country. She even expected her betrothed to have a mistress once they married. It wasn't uncommon, after all, but it didn't mean she approved of the practice. But could she prevent her future husband from treating her so shamefully? She didn't have the answer to this question yet.

Additionally, her conversation with the king on yester night had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn't want to see him ever again.

On the other side of the castle, a party was being prepared. Close to three dozen servants bustled about the harem. The dinner was going to be a colourful affair. Entire lambs were roasted, a variety of kebaps were cooked, along with böreks, dolmas and the sultan's favourite - hünkar beğendi - lamb stew served on a bed of creamy mashed eggplant. But also baklava and künefe for those who had a sweet tooth. Delicious scents reached the castle gates and beyond.

The most beautiful girls of the harem were readied, for they were an even bigger part of the gathering. The ones who wanted to impress the sultan were going to dance and sing for his highness, and the one he chose would be a very important woman. She would be, after all, the first woman to share Ecved's sultan bed, and that was high festivities started, the delicious meals were being served, but the sultan and his mother were in a deep, private discussion.

Taking measured steps, Isabella decided to attend the party. She wanted to make her presence known and, more importantly, take stock of her surroundings. If she wanted to gain her freedom, she needed to assess the forces against her to be prepared in case help came her way.

She followed an eunuch through the castle's wide hallways, illuminated by torches, towards the source of loud music, chatter and laughter. The music, she had never heard such a tone, but it was pleasant; was it a violin she heard playing?

Everyone was finely dressed. The sultan sat in a throne which stood on a platform. It gave him prominence, even more than his attire did. He was wearing a velvet caftan woven with threads of gold. The older woman sat on his right side but below his propped position, her dress made from an equally beautiful silky fabric embroidered with silver. Her neck was adorned with a rich necklace, the sapphires shining. Her hair was pulled back neatly and crowned with a bronze tiara, diamonds glinting through the honey tresses.

The princess curtsied to the pair then allowed the eunuch to lead her to a corner where ornate cushions were spread out on colourful carpets along with low tables where she saw foods of all kinds laid out. She sat gracefully on one of the cushions. She had decided to play along and give them a false sense of security, while thinking of ways to contact Prince Ferdinand or her father.

Isabella looked around her. From her sitting position she had the perfect view of all the room. She could see the sultan facing her directly, and to her right sat a small gathering of women chatting and laughing away. In the back corner a trio of women played musical instruments. One held a long-necked plucked lute, another had a plucked zither and a third played a violin.

A young-looking woman sat beside her, smiling all the while. She was dressed as beautifully as the woman next to Ecved Sultan.

The young woman smiled and said, "You uumm Princess Isabella... me Aliye Yasemin Sultana. Ecved Sultan my brother, and Esma Sultan my mother."

She pointed to the Sultan and the woman next to him as she spoke. Isabella then realised that the older woman was the queen regent, or rather Sultan regent, and this girl next to her was her daughter.

"Yes, I am," Isabella said, almost compassionately, to the girl who seemed so eager to talk to her, but the Princess didn't have the heart for chatter. She was much more preoccupied by what was occurring in front of her.

Some girls, wearing beautiful taffeta dresses in all colours, their waists highlighted with burnished belts, started dancing in synchronised movements. They held long silk scarfs between their fingers, looking in the Sultan's direction, matching their bodies to the music sensually, as if trying to get his attention. She was astonished. Who would behave so in such a dire situation? How could they be this eager to serve him when he had all but ripped them from their homes and imprisoned them?

At that moment, she looked toward Sultan Ecved, whom she found looking back at her. His eyes burned through hers. He had an intense look on his face, solely focused on her, as if he had eyes only for her. At that moment Isabella's cheeks coloured.

"He must choose one. Rite of passage," Aliye declared, distracting Isabella from where she looked.

Isabella's frown deepened. "So, you're telling me we're all here so we can witness his highness choosing someone to bed! The poor girls dancing isn't humiliation enough?" Isabella scoffed at herself for choosing to be part of such a rite. In her defence, she hadn't known what it was about, but now she did, she couldn't stay a minute longer.

She stood and found her way back to her room. Once there, she knew she could be more at ease.

"Princess!" she heard as she reached her room. She stopped, then turned to face the Sultan.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I had seen enough of the masquerade going on. I don't want to keep you from making such an important decision. Now if you'll excuse me," she said and turned to leave, but Ecved caught her arm, stopping her.

"Princess, neither of us know what happens behind closed doors in the others' court. While you're here, I would like for you to learn more about us. See for yourself," Ecved Sultan said, letting go of her arm. He had decided that it would be better for everyone if they got along for the duration of her stay, and he wanted, just a little, to know this foreign, infuriating and magnificent woman.

"I think I know enough," she exclaimed, not knowing how to voice her frustration.

"Trust me, you don't," he responded, trying to persuade her.

"Well I don't trust you to begin with, so that decides it," the princess replied in utter ire.

"You're so stubborn, Princess," he said with a crooked smile. "We have a library in the third court of the castle; I'd like to show you what I read."

"You are not letting go of the matter, are you?"

"No, I am not," he stated.

"Lead the way, then. Let's get this over with and see this fancy library of yours," she finally conceded, to the Sultan's elation.

The library was in a separate building, the exterior coated completely in marble. The building was built in the form of a Greek cross with a central dome.

"There are more than three thousand manuscripts here," the Sultan said proudly.

The Princess tried to hide her astonishment at hearing that statement. he hadn't believed the Ottomans could possess such a quantity of books.

"The subjects vary from science to literature and religion. I learnt most of what I know from these books, and on the nights when sleep doesn't find me, and I'm not crafting jewelry, I come here and read," he told her truthfully.

"You craft jewelry?" She was truly surprised.

"Yes, it teaches me patience. I came here to Istanbul when I was seven. Then, I received lessons from many great masters. On this day, I speak seven different languages, and I still crave learning more and more, but my escape has always been working on gems and metals, shaping them into something new," he opened up more to her. "What about you, Princess?"

"I am Isabella Marie of the house of Swan, and I am my father's only daughter and heir. I knew early on that one day I would be called to make sacrifices for my kingdom. I was educated following that notion."

"What were you asked to sacrifice If I may ask?" Ecved interjected.

"It was to ally my kingdom with another by marriage, a union I had no say in." Isabella said with a sigh. The Sultan was stunned by this revelation, that the Princess was ready to sacrifice her happiness for her duty, showed him she was far more stronger than he thought her to be, he was even more amazed by her.

"Be that as it may, I took lessons in different matters. I learnt French and Latin from a tender age as if they were my mother languages. I also received lectures in logic, philosophy - which I loved very much, music and mathematics, but what I loved most was literature. I loathe knitting or sewing, but I fancy horse riding, and I did it more often than not," Isabella smiled wistfully.

"Would you like to do that? Ride a horse, I mean."

Now she looked at him, enthused by the prospect of galloping again. Her answer was written all over her face.

"I'll take you tomorrow afternoon to a stroll around the castle on horseback."

Isabella wanted nothing more than to reach out her hand and touch her fingers to his, but she resisted that urge, settling on a thank you instead.

They conversed more and learnt new things about each other; that he was five years her senior with his one and twenty springs, that they both enjoyed poetry, loved the nature that surrounded them and preferred nothing more than the calm of the night and its twinkling stars.

From that night on, they met frequently, and discovered more about each other. Between the castle's walls, Ecved showed Isabella every aspect of his lifestyle. In those moments they weren't sovereigns anymore. They were Ecved and Isabella, and that freed both of them from so many constraints, if only for mere hours.

One of the most important things Isabella learnt was the truth about the harem. It was an small, organised society within the castle walls. The women weren't all there to be the sultan's concubines. Most of them were laborers, their chores varying from educating the sultan's family heirs, to cooking, sewing and tending to everyone's needs. They also could rise through, ranks making them powerful.

Three weeks after they arrived in Istanbul, Rose stood worrying, waiting on her Princess to return from one of her 'field trips', as she liked to call them. Right then Isabella entered her room tiptoeing so as not to wake her maid.

"Princess! Thank the god above. I was worried about you. You were later than usual. I thought something bad had happened to you, Princess. Worse, I feared you had been forced into actions you wanted no part in!" Rose exclaimed all at once.

Isabella didn't understand at first, but then it dawned on her. "Rose, no! There was nothing of the sort. He would never," Isabella defended. "We just lost our sense of time between history pages, that is all." But she blushed nonetheless at her maid's suggestion.

"It seems you, my Princess, are starting to trust the Sultan" Rose stated, matter of factly.

"Ecved is not what everyone thinks him to be," Isabella responded with a sigh.

"Come, Princess, you have to take your rest. The sun is rising, and you have yet to sleep," Rose said, noting that Isabella had begun to call the Sultan by his given name only.

Ecved was putting the finishing touches on his latest creation. This piece of jewelry was his best work yet, and he couldn't wait to give it to the woman who had inspired smile wistfully while perfecting the edges.

He was suddenly interrupted by one of his men. "Sorry your highness, but a man from the western land came bearing a message addressed to you, Sultan. He is waiting for your arrival in the council hall." The smile fell from Ecved's face and a frown appeared in its stead.

The messenger stood before the Sultan and his vizirs carrying a message. A message that left Ecved devoid of any emotion, a message that made him return to reality from the reverie he had lived the last few days, a message that ended his wishful thinking. His heart plummeted. He wanted to take his sword and rip everything within reach to express the rage within him, but he had one last thing to do first. He took a deep breath to lock his feelings deep inside and summoned Isabella to his council room. He sat upon his throne, waiting for her to arrive.

"Princess, welcome" Ecved said, encouraging her to come closer. "A messenger arrived today. He was sent from Prince Ferdinand."

The Princess was shocked to hear this. She no longer expected help to arrive. She had forgotten there was a world outside of the palace. She didn't even recall how many days had passed since she had arrived there .

"He said he was ready to start a war to come and rescue you," the Sultan stated. "But I told the messenger it was not necessary. The council and I decided it would be best to send you back peacefully without dispute. A troop will arrive in a two weeks, in time for the messenger to reach them and tell them of the plans," the sultan said in a monotone voice, with a touch of bitterness, almost as if reciting a lesson he had just learnt.

Isabella was at loss of words. Everything was jumbled in her head. She was completely overwhelmed by the development of events.

Ecved understood that she was probably too excited to speak. She was returning to what was familiar to her, to be with those whom she already considered to be her people. An impending wedding awaited her, a new home, a new throne and a future husband.

"Is that all, Sultan?" she finally managed to say. She waited for more, needing him to say something, she didn't know what precisely, but she wished anyway.

"Yes," he responded, hesitating only a moment, before adding, "You may go back to your room."

Isabella was dismissed in what she felt was the worst manner possible. She almost ran all the way back. She entered her room breathless and teary-eyed.

"What is it, Princess?" Rose said.

"Ferdinand will come and get us all in a fortnight."

"Princess, that's excellent news you bring!" Rose said, almost jumping in happiness. "Aren't you happy we'll finally be set free?"

"You call it freedom? I am to marry a man I know nothing of; to please everyone but myself, as I have done my whole life." Letting her tears fall, she carried on, "He's not setting me free, he is condemning me." She then started sobbing, to her maid's utter bewilderment.

Days passed and both Ecved Sultan and Princess Isabella seemed to be just shells of their former selves. They met only twice again on their nightly quests for more learning, before the day she was to depart. All they did on those nights was stare at the stars and moon in complete silence, neither knowing what to say.

Isabella couldn't figure why she was so sad to leave Topkapı Sarayı. It was, after all, what she had wanted since setting foot there, but a feeling all too foreign to her took residence in her chest and made her tear at every occasion.

It didn't help that Ecved had returned to his old cold self. He seemed to have regained his routines with no big effort. From her perspective, he had already forgotten about her, while he was all she thought of.

"Princess, may I see you for a few minutes?" Ecved interrupted her deep thinking. She hadn't even noticed when he had entered the room.

"Of course, Sultan."

"Since this is your last night in this castle, I wanted to tell you that meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me. Isabella, getting to know the real you was a great pleasure," he said wholeheartedly, his words fervent, touching Isabella to her core.

"You, too." Now she fought to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't say more. She felt choked up and couldn't form any more words.

"I also wanted to offer you this token so you would remember your time here, if you accept it, that is." Then he opened a crafted wooden box where lay the most beautiful pair of earrings. "I made them myself. When I saw the emeralds, I thought they would look stunning on you and started working on them immediately."

A lone tear fell down Isabella's cheek. "They're so beautiful. Of course I will them proudly,"she said, touching the flower design delicately. She would hold onto them dearly, the green of the stones reminding her of Ecved's eyes.

"The tulips represent the Ottoman Dynasty. You are right, they are lovely, but they can't compare to your beauty, Princess." He left abruptly, afraid he would shed the tears that stung his eyes. He had not cried since he was a babe and didn't plan to change that in front of a woman who wasn't even his. That left him in a sour state.

The Princess didn't blink an eye the whole night. Neither did Ecved. They both lay, wallowing in their rooms, too caught up in their own minds to realise the sun had risen.

The troop arrived at the castle, and Isabella was summoned to witness the discussion between Ecved Sultan and Ferdinand. Upon entering the inner council hall, she immediately spotted Ecved. He was sitting on a canopied throne. That morning he had donned a silver embroidered, blue velvet kaftan. On his head he wore an ottoman white turban, the front clasped with a broach that had a similar outline to her earrings. His eyes were more prominent than ever. She couldn't help but withdraw from her surroundings and think only about the man sitting across the room from her. He was a vision to behold, and her heart stopped its beats all together.

Prince Ferdinand stood in front of the Sultan with his back to Isabella, oblivious to what was happening around from him. When he realised he lost the sultan's attention to something behind him, he turned around, seeing that Princess Isabella was standing there, silent.

"Princess!" Ferdinand said, bowing his head.

Isabella snapped out of her stupor and bowed back formally, then stood staring. He hadn't changed much since the last time she had seen him, except for the beard and mustache he was growing. He was shorter than Ecved, but still taller than her. Ferdinand had blond hair and cold blue eyes, where Ecved's were warm and green.

She couldn't believe that this was it, that she was going to follow Ferdinand home to Austria, and they would marry and rule both his country and hers. She looked at Ecved, but his face was neutral, showing no trace of emotion, looking exactly like the all-powerful Sultan who was feared by so many.

Little did she know that all the while, he was praying silently that his torment would be over soon, that the sleepless night would end and his aching lungs would finally be allowed to breathe.

"We are set to leave in a few minutes, Princess. Go fetch your maid so we can be on our way," said Ferdinand dismissively. Ecved had an inclination to rip his head off for talking to her in such a manner, but she wasn't his, and he had no say in the matter.

Isabella wanted to respond, to say that he didn't have the right to order her around, that she would do what suited her. However, she could not find the strength. She felt defeated on so many levels. She left the hall with no words, heading to her room for one final time.

"Rose, it's time."

The maid wanted nothing more than to console the Princess, but she didn't know how to proceed. She thought her lady's marriage to the Prince would bring her the joy she deserved.

When they returned to the council hall, Isabella was dismayed to see that Ecved's throne was vacant. "Where is Ec... the Sultan?" she inquired.

"He went back to his apartments. He said he had matters to attend to," Prince Ferdinand replied.

"Alright, then. Let's get on our way, shall we?" she asked. Then she continued under her breath, "He didn't even bid me farewell." She was disappointed, sad and furious all at once.

When entering the main hall that led to the castle gates, Isabella stopped all of a sudden then turned around and ran.

"Princess! Where are heading?" Ferdinand exclaimed.

"I'll go after her," said Rose, already following the Princess.

Isabella disappeared through the castle's courts, fleeing through hallways to reach her destination, shocking everyone in her wake. But she didn't care in the least. She was on a quest, and none would deter her from it.

The doors to Ecved's rooms opened without his permission, and he was ready to screech at whomever intruded, but when he saw her standing there, teary-eyed and breathless, he stopped instantly.

"You couldn't come and say goodbye, even when you knew that we would never meet again, that this was the last time we would see each other," she managed to say through her tears and laboured breaths.

"What would it change? Soon you'll be married and more powerful than ever. You'll forget this mishap soon enough, so why say goodbye?" He could already see the powerful woman she would become. She would be a prodigious queen, wife and mother, and those thoughts pained him.

"It wasn't a mishap. It was the best experience to ever happen to me." She dashed to him and hugged him with all her will.

He soon returned her embrace, all too eager to reciprocate her gesture.

"Stay." "I don't want to go," they said at the same time, then started laughing and embraced again with even more force.


End file.
